


Cumulation

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4749404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Gold has acquired a device of which he claims not to know its function. Belle French is more than eager to show him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cumulation

Belle takes an approving look at the vintage books, clothes and jewelry in the corner of the pawnshop, all of the items bought today at an antiques and curiosities market in Boston.

"It seems to me like you made some good deals, Mr. Gold," she says, already knowing that he'll lend her any of the books she likes before offering them for sale in his shop - and that he'll eventually end up selling quite a few of them to her for discount prices.

"I did, didn't I?" he says, smiling a little at her.

How she loves this side of the solitary pawnbroker and landlord, the kindness and gentleness buried so deeply under his stoic, hard facade. She couldn't have dreamed of him being like this, let alone getting to know him in the way she has, ever since she gave in to her curiosity a few years ago to visit his pawn and antiques shop for the first time.

If only her interest in him and his shop had stopped when he'd become her best friend and he started to take her all over Maine to accompany him for his business.

"There is one item I have trouble identifying. The previous owner insisted on selling it along with the clothes and necklaces, but had the nerve to raise the price because of it. Of course, the necklaces alone are worth more than the price he charged for everything, so it was a bargain regardless."

"I'm certain it was," she replies, smiling fondly when he practically preens when he polishes the now once more shining pieces of jewelry.

"But that item got me puzzled. I have no idea what's it for or what it can do, although I can definitely tell that it isn't old or valuable, no matter what that salesman said. Still, I'd like to know what it is. Maybe you can take a look at it? You might recognize it."

"Of course," she replies, "where is it?"

"I've left it in the back room for now. There's no point in dragging the thing to the shop itself since it's probably nothing but a piece of junk."

Belle shivers pleasantly when he leads her to the back, the pressure of his hand on the small of her back so light that it's barely there. If only he would touch her more firmly, if only his hand would stray... but it never has and it in all likelihood never will.

She has long given up on her fantasies of passionate adventures in the back room of his shop, let alone anywhere else. The fact that he tenses and turns away whenever she seeks physical contact with him in the guise of casual, everyday touches has made very clear to her that he isn't interested in her in a romantic and sexual way.

"There it is," he says, holding open the curtain which separates both parts of the building to let her through, "right on the floor."

She gasps when she recognizes the saddle-like seat standing on the floor, although it currently misses its most characteristic attachment and she never would have thought that she would see such an item in real life - especially not in the back of Mr. Gold's shop.

"You know what it is?" he asks, looking at her.

"I... I do," she replies, the device of pleasure momentarily forgotten when she looks back to the man who showed it to her.

There's no way that the pawnbroker doesn't know what it is... or is there? Admittedly, she's never seen anything remotely resembling a masturbation device of either vintage or modern kind in the sheer clutter of  _stuff_  stored and displayed on these premises - yes, she has looked, and yes, without his awareness of that particular quest.

He may not be a man of modern media - or anything modern, really - but he's almost as well-read as she is and spends so much of his time looking at and talking about all sorts of unusual items... surely, he isn't as ignorant of the nature and purpose of this particular device as he pretends to be.

In fact, she has neither seen him buy it nor bring it to his shop when they unloaded his car only a short while ago. It's  _at least_ as likely that he placed the saddle here before they arrived, all along planning to show it to her and claim his own ignorance to see how she might react.

Which leads to the option that her feelings for the friend she is very much attracted to perhaps aren't so one-sided after all.

"Enlighten me?" the pawnbroker says, his voice alone more than enough to drive her to complete distraction. "If only to satisfy my curiosity."

Oh, how she would  _love_  to satisfy a whole lot more than only his curiosity. And maybe, just perhaps, that's exactly what he's trying to achieve.

No matter how much he might want to, Mr. Gold probably wouldn't make his interest known in any straightforward manner, or 'make advances' as he might put it, like any other men she knows. Indeed,  _if_  he were to express his interest in her, he might as well do it exactly like this.

"Have you tried  _turning it on_?" she asks, the often so neutral face she has learned to read quite well regardless now frustratingly void of any thoughts or emotion he might have, despite her innuendo.

Then again, Mr. Gold wouldn't be Mr. Gold if he wouldn't to proceed with extreme caution in a situation in which he feels unfamiliar or insecure. It's an understatement to say the least that they're currently threating on thin ice in completely uncharted territory.

"I have," he replies, "but all it does is vibrate."

Never mind caution. Never mind reading between the lines. She's going to get  _mad_  if there isn't going to vibrate  _something_ between her thighs very soon.

"How about I demonstrate its function for you?"

"I would appreciate that very much, Miss French."

Belle swallows heavily when she looks from him to the saddle and back again, her determination to proceed with her impulsive plan increasing when she admires his beautiful face.

"Is it clean?" she asks, despite the current circumstances not having forgotten that the machine might have been at a public market earlier this day and that the trunk of is car, despite being as neat as the rest of his property, can't be  _that_  hygienic.

"How clean does it need to be?"

"Hot water and mild soap ought to do the trick."

Without asking questions, the pawnbroker goes to the small sink in the corner of the room to retrieve the items in question before she can do so herself.

His activity gives her the chance to solely focus on the device in front of her for a while, desire throbbing inside of her at the prospect of using it, almost regardless of Mr. Gold's presence - or participation.

She has read about what the saddle can do, she has in a way  _seen_ what it can do, and now she gets to try it for herself, to find out whether she'll experience the same extreme pleasure as the women in the videos she watched online.

Moisture gathers between her legs when she glances back at the pawnbroker, right when he removes his suit jacket. He bends slightly over the sink to fill a bucket with water, the expensive material of his trousers stretching over his buttocks spectacularly. She can barely contain a moan at the sight of it.

He returns a moment later, handing her a bucket of soapy water and a clean cloth. There's still no sight of any phallic shaped attachments, but as she questioningly runs her fingers over the single additional piece that is supplied before experimentally removing it, she knows that it'll do its job more than fine.

She thoroughly washes the purposefully designed rubber in the hot water, shivering when their fingers brush as Mr. Gold takes it from her when she is done, drying it methodically. Belle runs the damp cloth over the saddle itself with considerably less finesse at the prospect of his fingers touching her right where the rubber will be soon, rather than the attachment he's currently all but caressing with said fingers.

However, if not going beyond her using the saddle is what he's comfortable with, than this is exactly what she'll do for now.

He gives her the attachment and the cloth, enabling her to dry the surface she just cleaned and put everything back in place. She takes the control box with fingers that are shaking with eagerness, letting out a squeal of excitement when both the saddle and its deftly shaped attachment immediately start to vibrate when she presses the button.

"It did that too when I tried it earlier," Mr. Gold remarks, "but I have no idea what it's for."

"I'll show you  _exactly_  how it works and what it does," she replies, licking her lips and pondering her course of action, shutting the machine off for just a moment.

The landlord is standing right in front of the saddle, not making a move to do anything but just stand there and watch, causing arousal to mix with flutterings in her belly of a much more nervous nature.

Taking a deep breath, Belle decides to keep all her clothes on and start slowly, to gauge his reaction before completely giving in to the ecstasy she expects the electric saddle will bring her, exactly like he may or may not intend her to.

Grateful that she is wearing a loose knee-length skirt, she easily straddles the saddle while keeping her thighs covered. She has to place her knees quite awkwardly on the floor to brace herself on the saddle, but she easily accepts that minor inconvenience.

Kicking off her heels, she positions the most sensitive part of her cotton-clad self right against the ridges of the attachment, holding on to the control box with two damp, reverent hands. Keeping her eyes locked with his, she activates the saddle again, rotating the dial in order to switch to one of its lowest settings to get started.

Belle moans as soon as she does so, the gentle vibrations seeming to come from  _everywhere_ , but especially the rubber that the apex of her thighs is pressed against. The delicious motions seem to  _go_  everywhere too, but especially right where she wants it most, reaching her straight through her panties.

Encouraged by the way the pawnbroker's eyes widen and darken as he watches her intently, she increases the intensity of the vibrations. Her eyes fall shut momentarily as pleasure begins to build almost immediately, but she opens them again, wanting to look at the man who gave her this opportunity.

Judging by his longing expression, this was  _definitely_ what he had in mind when he showed the device to her. Smiling at him, she increases the intensity yet further, finding a setting that feels just right for now. She puts the control box on the ground in front of her, not needing it for the time being but wanting to keep it as closely to her as possible for later.

Bracing her hands on her thighs, she shifts along the saddle, adjusting herself until she has found the position that provides the most stimulation. Groaning in approval, Belle begins rocking against the rubber, pleasure shooting all throughout her in a way she had never imagined.

"This is yet better than I thought," she gasps, greedily grinding herself more firmly against it.

Mr. Gold doesn't reply, but he doesn't need to. The bulge appearing at the front of his trousers tells her everything she hoped to find out.

Tension is coiling urgently in her lower belly, but it excites her rather than rushes her. She isn't there yet, but she isn't in any hurry. Never she has been nearly as certain that the she's going to find the pleasure she seeks - and possibly much more than that.

Although the pawnbroker stands so still he might be a statue - a very erotic statue, mind you - there's no mistaking that he very much likes what he sees. If anything, she loves how unassuming he is even now. Besides, he may as well be making love to her with his gaze alone, his gaze heavy and filled with desire, not missing a single detail of what she's doing.

His rapt attention arousing her as much as the machine beneath her does, her body demands release even if her mind is very happy to draw out the proceedings. Her pelvis rocks more firmly against the perfectly shaped ridges on its own accord, her breath coming out in short, shallow gasps.

"Oh yes," she mutters, her entire body catching on and beginning to move intently, " _yes_."

The pressure inside of her is building, expanding, and then it's unwinding, spreading all throughout her in languid waves of fulfillment. She keeps her eyes open for as long as she can to watch the pawnbroker, his gasp of realization and straining erection sending a new jolt of arousal through her.

When most of the trembling has passed and she opens her eyes again, Belle isn't nearly in the mood to stop yet. She has no idea whether her body can achieve the heights she's read about and witnessed in videos, but rather than trying for the sake of it, she simply feels that neither her own adventure nor the pawnbroker's part in it isn't nearly over yet.

Her thighs quivering delicately on both sides of the saddle and sweat starting to drip down her skin, she happily rides out the aftershocks. She's delighted that her sense of completion is already mixing with an ache for  _more_. No matter how wonderful the machine is, there's no doubt in her mind that the still motionless but ever so intent pawnbroker is to thank for that.

Reaching for the control box again, she's also thrilled to find that it's currently only at a quarter of the maximum intensity. Looking him straight in the eyes, she dials it up once more, an expletive escaping her at what the stronger vibrations do to her.

What she experienced so far was thoroughly enjoyable in its own right, but this is something else entirely... and Mr. Gold is still just standing there, watching, making no move whatsoever to do anything but his own arousal. She briefly wonders if he might be able to reach his completion simply by watching her, but she doesn't want to find out - not this time, at least.

All rationality and the last sense of propriety is gone when she begins rubbing herself all along the increasingly slippery leather and particularly the rubber attachment of the saddle. Gasping for breath, she instinctively braces her arms on the floor in front of her for more leverage.

"Touch yourself," she grinds out to him, not knowing whether it's a command or a request, whether it's a good idea at all to make an end to the unspoken agreement of silence they appear to have reached.

He tentatively cups himself through his trousers and she cries out at the sight of it, moving yet more vigorously. Finding that her blouse restricts her movements, she practically tears it of herself, basking in the way his jaw goes slack when he looks at her breasts and the bra that covers it.

She would have taken off that last layer covering her upper body as well, hadn't he stumbled backwards at that very moment. Fortunately, the pawnbroker catches himself against the wall before he actually falls, lowering himself onto the cot behind him.

Belle watches him while she frantically grinds herself against the saddle, trying to commit as much to memory as she can of the sight of him... which isn't as exposed yet as she'd like it to be.

In a burst of inspiration, she pulls the hem of her skirt upwards, revealing to a larger extent to him what all of this is doing to her. The pale blue panties she put on this morning are a lot more demure than she'd like them to be right now, but at least the contrast in color of the fabric along her folds does a great job of illustrating how aroused she is.

Feeling particularly bold, no doubt fueled by her desire and his nearness, she shoves her panties aside for as far as they can go. She'd love to actually take off both her skirt and the fabric underneath it, but that would require her to stand up and there's  _no way_ that she's going to stop straddling the machine any time soon.

His mouth actually falls open and his hands  _still_  at these developments, much to her bewilderment and frustration. At least the heaving of his chest and the flush on his face inform her that he reacts more out of disbelief than anything else, perspiration beading his face despite his general lack of movement so far.

"You too?" she asks, nodding meaningfully at his crotch.

Mr. Gold nods, his gaze solely on where she just bared herself while he swallows visibly. She does the same thing when his hands continue moving and she finds herself looking at the man she loves, his usual impeccable appearance utterly disheveled as he pleasures himself to the sight of her.

Then again, even now he is still composed and cautious to some extent, his touches light as he palms himself, his fingers still not coming anywhere near bare skin - even his sleeve garters are still in place.

"Can I see you?" she requests, right before a particularly well-placed tremor has her yelping in delight.

No matter how wonderful all of this is, it would be better yet if the pawnbroker could let go of his inhibitions just like she has herself, to simply  _give in_  to his obvious desire, if only this once.

"Miss French, I..."

He gestures helplessly, removing his hand from himself altogether. Oh, how impossibly  _infuriating_  he is. Before his posture can become once more as formal as the way he still addresses her, she wants him to experience as much of the pleasure she is currently enjoying herself, to find completion right along with him.

"If you don't want me to see you because it makes you uncomfortable, then by all means keep yourself covered. But if you don't do so because you might think that I won't like what I see... please don't. And either way, just... please just  _enjoy_ yourself, Mr. Gold. I'd really like you to do that."

"I want that too," he replies, sounding pained, "but I don't want to disappoint you."

"Believe me, I'm quite certain that you won't"

"I'm not at all... impressive."

"Do I look like I need endless penetration with a ten inch cock to have a mind-blowing orgasm?"

Now  _those_  are words she never expected herself to think, let alone say out loud to Mr. Gold of all people. But it seems to have struck a chord, for he attacks his belt with all the determination and vigor he lacked only a moment ago, struggling to get out of the clothes on his lower half as quickly as humanly possible.

Her jaw is doing the dropping this time, when the pawnbroker hastily shoves his trousers and boxer shorts down his legs, his erection finally springing free. Her lower half presses itself more firmly against the surface beneath her, desperate for more friction at the mouth-watering sight of him.

There must be something about her that reassures him, for after a long, tentative look at her he carefully takes himself in his hand. His first stroke is light and ever so cautious, as if he hardly knows what he's doing or that he wants to postpone reaching his peak, but she's put at ease by the way he hisses in unmistakable pleasure, his face beautifully contorted.

"Let's see who gets there first?"

He nods, his grip becoming a little more snug and his pace quickening slightly. Having thrown all inhibitions out of the window already, Belle pushes herself back and forth as hard and as rapidly as she can, the sight he provides adding wonderfully to the purely physical stimulations of the machine.

Making a sound which can probably only be described as a growl, she is momentarily distracted by the burning sensations inside of her as they start to coil insistently. Overtaken by an urgency she has never known before, she lowers her head and seeks as much friction as she can.

When she looks up again from beneath the curtain of her damp hair, Mr. Gold is stroking himself in earnest while he drinks in the sight of her. She whimpers when she returns the favor, noting the moisture gathering at his tip. Very soon, he's going to come as hard as she is, and she'll witness each and every glorious detail of it.

"Sweetheart, you first, please. Let me see you again."

She is lost due to the way he addresses her, groaning his name when she shatters once more. This time, she momentarily loses awareness of everything except for the way her body jerks and quivers, heat and satisfaction taking her somewhere she never was before.

It seems to go and on and  _on_. Belle would love to linger on it, to bask in each ounce of intoxicating pleasure, but the pawnbroker's hoarse shout reminds her that there's something better yet that's awaiting her.

She looks up just in time to see him spurt all over his fist and still covered stomach, his eyes glazed over before they fall shut and he collapses on the cot with her name - her  _first_  name - on his lips.

The sight of a boneless, wholly satisfied Mr. Gold leads her to reach the conclusion that her body isn't done yet - although that may also have something to do with the way the vibrations tirelessly continue to stimulate her in a way nothing else ever has.

She has rarely seen something as beautiful as the pawnbroker's eyes when he opens them again, pools of liquid lust and satisfaction matching his name. She hungrily licks her lips when she watches the evidence of his release stain his dress shirt and drip down his hand, telling herself that she'll do her very best to get a taste of that in the very near future.

But right now, there's something she craves yet more. Glancing back at the control box she had all but forgotten about from her peripheral vision, she realizes that the device which already made her see proverbial stars is in fact not even half at its maximum capacity.

Watching one another through hooded eyes, his face is soft with wonder and relaxation. For now, she simply has to believe that this won't be the one and only time she gets to see him like this. His hand is where he left it when he climaxed, but she notes that he isn't providing himself with any friction any longer.

"Keep touching yourself?" she suggests while she reaches for the control box again, hoping that she won't be the only one of them pursuing yet more joy.

To her delight, he does just that, appearing to be surprised by how sensitive he still is. The pleasure he experiences is once more almost tangible to her, his expression more open and raw than she ever could have thought it can be.

Belle doesn't look at the dial when she turns it clockwise yet more. In fact, she can't look at anything at all when the increased movement of the saddle has her  _yelping_. All she can do is hold on for dear life, the vibrations against her increasingly, almost painfully sensitive pelvis almost violent. But there's no way she wants it to end - or at least, not until _she_  has one more time.

She doesn't even have to move herself to quickly provide sufficient friction. Indeed, it's challenging enough to remain seated in the first place, her legs no longer capable of properly supporting her. Cursing under her breath, she is rapidly heading for that precious precipice again.

Needing to see how he is reacting, she manages to open her eyes for a few seconds. She finds there has changed nothing about the way Mr. Gold looks at her, awed and reverent like she's a  _goddess._  Combined with the way he is still gently touching himself, his trousers and boxer shorts pooling messily around his ankles, she does feel out of this world.

The pressure inside of her becoming utterly overwhelming, there's no choice but to close her eyes again and briefly hope that there'll be a time that she can admire him in slightly less primal circumstances. Throwing her head back, she shifts slightly backwards on the saddle, the direct stimulation becoming too much.

Heaving for breath, her next groan is one of frustration. The vibrations may have been too much at first, but that doesn't change that she  _needs_  them to resolve the ever more insistent ache within her.

"Almost," she growls impatiently, more to the machine than anything or anyone else.  _"Almost."_

"You can do it, sweetheart."

She hadn't expected that the pawnbroker would start talking to her at this point, just like the thought hadn't occurred to her to ask him to do so in the first place. But now that he has spoken out, she finds that the sound of his voice can do what the electric device doesn't entirely succeed in right now.

"Please, keep talking," she groans, her back arching when another jolt of pleasure  _wrecks_  her without taking her over the edge. "Please."

"You are... you are so incredibly beautiful, Belle.  _So_ beautiful. I've  _longed_  to see you like this, but I never could have thought..." He's practically babbling, but his for once seemingly thoughtlessly spoken words only arouse her more. "It's... it's a privilege to see you like this, sweetheart. I'll cherish this for the rest of my life."

He groans again and at this point she assumes that it has solely to do with looking at her rather than the feeling in his own body, which he may or may not be still stimulating.

"When I...  _touched_... I never felt anything like it. I didn't know I  _could_. And I just hope... I  _hope_ that we can do this again, that maybe... maybe you'd like to touch me as well, or let me touch you."

" _YES!_ "

Mr. Gold expresses the exact prospect she hoped for as well at precisely the same moment that the pressure of the saddle hits her just right. Imagining that it's  _him_ that takes her so much higher than she's ever been, her body arches further backwards than she knew it could, then tenses for a brief eternity.

For a fraction of a second she balances on the edge, but then the dam that has been holding her back  _breaks_ , the pleasure that had been building up finally unleashing. Feeling like she's falling and flying simultaneously, this time there's nothing proverbial about the flashes of light behind her eyelids.

The same goes for the liquid that comes  _gushing_  from between her legs without warning. Belle screams her release and disbelief into the hot, damp air of the back room, the tireless saddle between her prolonging everything. She gasps and spasms, her body completely in the throes of passion and all control over her limbs gone, slumping forward until she all but collapses on the floor, with the device still between her thighs.

She's sobbing, too, especially when there's a flash of panic along with the realization that she simply can take no more. Pleasure is turning into discomfort but there's no way that she can move, either to get her lower half off the machine or to get the control box and switch it off.

"Easy now. I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."

The movements of the machine stop abruptly and almost immediately afterwards there are strong but gentle hands on her arms. Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, she follows the pawnbroker to the best of her abilities when he half carries her to the cot where he previously sat himself.

She collapses where he positions her, putting her hand on his thigh and her head on his shoulder, sighing happily and nodding in approval when he questioningly wraps his arm around her back.

Her body starting to recover from the extremes it just went through, Belle basks in the aftermath of unimaginable pleasure in the arms of the man she loves, said love and attraction turning out to be as mutual as she secretly hoped for for so long after all.

"I've never felt nearly this good," she mutters against the slick skin of his neck.

"Neither have I," he whispers into her hair. "All of this... it's incredible. I hope we can share something like this again."

"Yes, definitely," she replies, "the sooner the better, for as far as I'm concerned."

"That's exactly what I was hoping too," he sighs contently, although there's still a hint of disbelief in his tone.

She giggles a little in sheer relief, but it doesn't distract her from the chilliness creeping into their little world of bliss. Still, Mr. Gold is immediately aware of her subsequent shiver and the goosebumps raising on her arms. All of the clothes they discarded are currently out of reach however, leading him to unbutton his dress shirt to wrap it around her shoulders.

Those actions reveal his blue, wholly drenched undershirt clinging to his chest. Her eyes fluttering fully open, she admires this new side of him, especially when she finds out that he has only partially pulled up his trousers or even his boxer shorts.

"I... I didn't think of covering myself up when I went to assist you," he says sheepishly, moving to stand up to remedy that.

"Don't? I'm so comfortable like this, sitting with you, I don't want to interrupt it for anything."

"Anything you want, sweetheart," he replies, incredulity making its way to his face once more.

"I love the way you look, Mr. Gold, I truly do," she says, pointedly glancing at his manhood. "I can't wait to get better acquainted with you... with  _all_ of you."

To make her point and, more than that, to give in to her own long ignored desire, she moves her hand along his thigh. Looking for his face for confirmation, she only cups him lightly after he has nodded. He briefly closes his eyes and gasps, but his reaction appears to stem more from emotional than physical joy.

"Would you like me to... to do for you what just did yourself?" she asks, caressing him lightly.

"If you'd like to do that... I'd love that. But not yet. There isn't really a... a point, for the time being."

"I beg to differ about there not being a 'point'," she chuckles lowly, lovingly running her fingers over his length to its tip, all of him by now soft and sticky and as beautiful as before. "Just know that I want to touch you like this again as soon as you'd like me to."

"Oh, sweetheart..."

There are tears in his eyes when she looks up again. Sniffling a little herself, she knows that she reacts the same way. It's an expression of joy rather than sadness however, very much so, especially when leans in immediately when she moves towards him, their lips meeting in the middle for a chaste, lingering kiss.

"You found the absolute best way to seduce a woman," she says contentedly when the kiss comes to its natural end and she places her head on his shoulder again.

"I'd say that  _you_  are the one who seduced  _me,"_ he says dreamily. "I had no idea what that... thing is for, not to mention..."

"Wait,  _what_? Are you telling me that you didn't show me the saddle on purpose?"

"Of course I didn't, other than to find out what it was. Why would I do such a thing?"

"To tell me that you'd like to see me use it without, you know, actually telling me?"

"You give me too much credit, sweetheart. Which is hardly the first time, if I may say so. Had I known what it was, I never would have dared to show it to you, especially not with ulterior motives."

"I never would have done anything of what I just did hadn't I thought that it was what you'd like me to do to begin with."

They look at each other in bewilderment. It's a very good thing that they've already established their desire and affection for one another, otherwise this discovery of mutual misunderstanding could probably have backfired very, very unpleasantly.

"I've liked you for a long time, Mr. Gold.  _Really_ liked you. But I thought... I thought you didn't return my feelings."

"I've... I've been smitten with you since I got to know you. But I couldn't have dreamed that you also wanted..." He shakes his head and she's glad that he doesn't voice the objections she can practically see flying through his mind. "Let's just say that I truly didn't know what that device is... that I still don't. Although I think I've at least figured out what it  _does_."

"It's a Sybian saddle," she explains, making herself more comfortable against him. "I've never seen one in real life before, but I found out about them when Ruby showed me an article in a magazine about them. Let's just say that I got curious and later did some... online research on my own."

Heat is evoked within her again as it occurs to her how lovely it would probably be to do such 'research' together with the man at her side... and that he feels the same way, if the sudden redness appearing on his cheeks is any indication.

"It's designed to pleasure women," she continues, glancing back at the machine. "A complete version includes a selection of... phallus shaped attachments. As it is now, it can do only external stimulation, but as you saw that worked out very well too."

"Those... additional attachments weren't there when I bought it. Had they been there, I suspect I would have known what it was for to at least some extent."

"That doesn't sound like you, to miss part of an item you buy," she teases, very much aware that they in all likelihood wouldn't have been here like this at all if the salesmen had sold him the complete version. "Maybe this deal wasn't such a good one after all."

"I beg to differ, sweetheart. This was by far the best deal of my life," he says lovingly. "But if you like, I can definitely look into acquiring the missing pieces, as it were."

"I'd like that, but..." she falters, biting her lip while wondering whether she should voice what she is thinking, then leans in to him to whisper in his ear. "The only cock I want to have inside of me is yours."

Mr. Gold looks at her as if he can't believe that he heard her correctly, his face turning bright red, especially when she meaningfully glances at his lap once more to emphasize her bold statement.

"Being with you is what I want the most," she continues, caressing his face tenderly. "I  _dream_  of making love to you, of touching you and being touched by you. As for this machine, and the missing attachments... I'd love to experiment, try different things, preferably with you watching me... or participating."

"I'd love that, all of it. Really, I'd love to do anything that you want to try. We could put the device in your apartment or in my house, and just..."

"Just enjoy the saddle and each other," she concludes, a jolt of desire already shooting through her like lightning once more. "Anything in particular that you have in mind?"

"I... I'd really like to hold you and touch you while you're on there."

Belle hums in approval, already imagining herself back on the saddle with him right behind her, supporting her weight and kissing her neck while his hands wander all over her bare body and he rubs himself against her to find his own completion.

"Let's try that as soon as both of us have our energy back," she whispers, smiling in reaction to his particularly enthusiastic nod. "For now, just let's rest."

With some maneuvering and tugging, Mr. Gold manages to get both of them in a comfortable sleeping position on the cot with a blanket over them for warmth. Belle happily snuggles her back against his front, pulling his arm around her as both of them face the saddle they can't wait to use again.


End file.
